


Your Kiss (is on my list)

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: All the X-Men are Poly, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Unhealthy Emphasis on Tye Sheridan's Lips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: “Is it his lips?” She asks, genuinely curious.Hank groans and lets his head fall forward andthunkonto the tabletop.





	Your Kiss (is on my list)

**Author's Note:**

> just continuing the lord's work of trying to fill the hank/scott tag here on ao3. big thanks to hannah as always for beta'ing!
> 
> at least they actually kiss this time! title is from "kiss on my list," by hall and oates. 
> 
> enjoy!

“You stare at him an awful lot…” Raven observes as she taps a fingertip against her bottom lip. She’s studying Hank with a gaze that feels as though _she’s_ the telepath, not Charles. Her eyes narrow and Hank barely reigns in a flinch, barely resists the urge to hunch in on himself. “Oh come on now, don’t be _shy_.”

She grins at him with an edge of flirtation and bumps her shoulder against his.

The touch sparks a memory in his mind of one of their previous nights together. It had been sweltering hot, and Raven had walked in sans clothing and sans disguise and crawled into bed with him. While they’d mutually agreed they could never work in the long run, they still rendezvous on occasion, and Hank enjoys them perhaps a little too much.

His already burning skin flushes a deeper red, and Raven lets out a cackle.

“Oh, you’re so screwed.” She rests her chin in her palm and smirks. “God, you’re cute when you blush.”

Hank ducks out of her reach when she tries to pinch at his cheeks. He bats at her hand and scowls. “Knock it off.”

Raven snorts. “So, you stare at him. A lot.” Her gaze flicks over to where Scott sits with Kurt and Jean, the three of them animatedly chattering. “Is it because of Alex?”

Her voice dips as she asks, in sympathy rather than mocking. She knows about Hank and Alex’s turbulent history, the way it crashed and burned like only whirlwind romances can.

He shrugs. “I guess.”

Raven’s eyes narrow again. “That’s not all, though.”

Hank sighs. “Please let it go?” He pleads. “It’s nothing.”

Raven’s lips twist as she scrutinizes him, and Hank doesn’t know why he bothers begging her. She’ll never stop, not when she’s got her teeth into something like this. In a move that’s deceptively innocent, she twirls a lock of blonde hair around her fingers. She keeps staring at him, and Hank keeps trying—and failing—to not stare at Scott, and silence falls over their conversation.

Just when Hank think he’s at least temporarily out of the clear, Raven pipes up.

“Is it his lips?” She asks, genuinely curious.

Hank groans and lets his head fall forward and _thunk_ onto the tabletop.

“Definitely his lips, then.” Raven nods triumphantly.

 

 

“Are you going to do anything about it?” She murmurs to him as they watch the younger recruits run drills in the backyard.

“ _Raven_ ,” he hisses back, scandalized. “He’s—he’s Alex’s brother, not to mention a _student_ , and he’s so—?”

She picks up on the direction he’s heading. “So he’s got a bit of a baby face. Not illegal.”

“Besides the point,” Hank insists. “Because he is a _student_ , and Alex’s _brother_.”

“Alex would’ve wanted you to be happy.”

Hank’s mouth snaps shut with a sharp click.

“ _I_ want you to be happy,” she adds. His and Raven’s rendezvouses have become fewer and further between. Not that he minds, since his affections are admittedly focused elsewhere. But there’s a tone in her voice that tells him she’s moving on.

“I want you to be happy, too,” he replies in lieu of addressing her implication. “Are you?”

Raven smiles sweetly and runs a hand through her hair—red and slicked back this time. “I am,” she says with a nod. “I am.”

“Same here,” he insists.

Raven tsks and shakes her head. “If you say so.”

At that moment, the class tumbles to a natural halt. Jean and Kurt split off to discuss something, Jubilee and Scott do the same, but Scott’s gaze is drifting. It lands on Hank and Raven after a few minutes, and he waves.

Hank waves back faintly.

“You’re _so_ screwed,” Raven says. She claps him firmly on the shoulder, enough to make his knees buckle, before taking off toward the students. “Ten minutes, then we’ll run through other drills!” She hollers.

Hank watches her go with his hands clenched tight around his clipboard. He’s keenly aware of Scott staring at him, right up until Hank finally approaches the group; Scott’s gaze slides away the closer Hank gets, and Hank tries not to be affected.

 

 

“He’s watching you,” Raven whispers conspiratorially. She drops into the seat beside Hank with a loud thud; she’s got no books with her, not like the enormous stack beside Hank. In fact, she seems perfectly content to watch Hank for a reaction rather than read or study or work on lesson plans.

“What?” Hank asks, distracted. He makes a note in the margin of his papers carefully. He pauses to reread a passage in the book beside him, and when he moves to write something else down, Raven’s elbow jams unceremoniously into his side and sends his pen skittering across his page. “ _What?_ ”

“He’s _watching_ you.” Raven nods subtly toward the opposite end of the library. Hank looks up and follows her line of sight just in time to see Scott look away. Even from a distance, the blush high on his cheeks is unmistakable.

“He’s not,” Hank retorts. He drops his head back to his book and tries to immerse himself in his studies and lesson planning.

Raven smacks at his arm. “He’s looking again.”

Hank doesn’t look up this time, and Raven makes a surprised noise in the back of her throat. “He’s _really_ looking. I am very clearly watching him, and he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”

Hank rolls his eyes. “I doubt that.”

Raven smacks him again, harder, and he sways in his seat. Finally, he looks up only to catch Scott looking away again. The blush is even worse, and he even goes so far as to turn around and engross himself with whatever shelf he’s looking at.

“Isn’t that the Health and Sexuality section?” Raven directs the question at him but speaks loud enough for Scott to hear.

Hank watches the tips of Scott’s ears burn cherry red before he flees.

“What’s the point of telling me he’s staring if you’re just going to scare him off?”

“Maybe you should go after him,” Raven counters.

Hank sighs. “That would be inappropriate.”

Raven laughs, loud and delighted. “But ogling him is fine.”

Hank scoots his chair away as far as he can, but Raven only shuffles her own chair closer. “Raven, please.”

“You sound just like Charles.”

“Great, fantastic.” Hank gives up: on getting away from Raven, on planning lessons, on studying. He drops his face into his hands and let his glasses clatter onto the table. “Wonderful.”

Raven only laughs more.

 

 

Hank pauses in his calculations. “Scott.”

“Raven said you’d be here.”

Hank looks around his laboratory; even if Raven hadn’t said, it’s usually a safe bet that he’s here. Even so, Hank asks, “Did she now?”

Scott nods as he steps further into the room. The door falls shut behind him and his footfalls on the tiled floor are incredibly loud. Hank prefers to work in silence—something that baffles almost all of the other X-Men and students—and the cavernous walls make for insane acoustics. Scott stops short of Hank’s table, strewn in papers and pens and six separate calculators.

“Did you need something?” Hank asks as gently as he can. He’s man enough to admit he’s been avoiding Scott just a little bit the past few weeks. Really, Raven is to blame. What with her planting ideas in his head, nurturing something that shouldn’t be nurtured. All her taunting and “encouragement” has made Hank scared of being around Scott.

“Not really.”

Hank ‘ah’s quietly and nods. “Need a quiet place to study?” He asks with a wry turn of his lips.

Scott shakes his head but pulls up a chair across from Hank. “Raven says you watch me.”

Hank resists the urge to bristle. “Raven says a lot of things.”

“She says I watch you, too. She’s not wrong.”

Hank’s traitorous skin blooms into pink, and he scowls down at his abandoned calculations. “Scott—?”

“Don’t.”

Hank sighs and pushes his papers away. He lifts his glasses long enough to pinch the bridge of his nose. When he opens his eyes, Scott is worrying his lower plush lip. “Scott,” he starts again.

“Don’t,” Scott replies more firmly. “I’m an adult.”

“I know that.”

Scott scoffs. “I’m not my brother.”

Hank startles. “I know that,” he says again.

Scott nods. “Good.”

“That still doesn’t mean—?”

Scott stands abruptly, and Hank’s protests die on his lips. For the first time since Scott came in, Hank allows himself to really look. Scott is in his typical jeans, tight in the thigh but not obscenely so; his polo tee is a faded blue and brings out the light flush of pink in his face. Hank watches, slack-jawed, as Scott stalks around the table.

Hank turns with him and doesn’t move when Scott reaches out to push Hank’s chair back from his table.

“Scott. This is inappropriate on so many levels—?”

“You’ve slept with other X-Men.”

Hank splutters. “Not the point.”

Scott sighs and Hank gets the distinct feeling that eyes are being rolled. “Forget it,” he says under his breath. For one moment, both glorious and torturous, Hank thinks Scott is going to leave.

He’s wrong; he always seems to be wrong, these days.

Scott braces his hands on the arms of Hank’s chair and leans in. He moves slowly and Hank, this close, can see the younger man’s lips quivering. Not with fear, though. With anticipation, heady and intoxicating. Hank stays stock still as Scott gets closer, and even though he knows it’s coming he still startles when their lips finally meet.

Scott sighs into the kiss through his nose, and Hank finds himself choking on an answering sigh of his own. Scott kisses gently, sweetly; not quite tentative but not brash like Alex, not self-assured like Raven. Scott’s shaking against Hank, and it’s purely reflexive to reach up and lay a steadying hand against Scott’s cheek.

It wrings a soft moan from Scott, trapped behind closed lips, and Hank wants to hear _more_. Like the urge to shift, this cracks his veneer. His hand settles against Scott’s cheek in a solid weight, and his other hand snaps to Scott’s hip without a second thought. He’s rewarded with another desperate noise, and this time Hank answers by opening his mouth to Scott.

Scott gasps in surprise but quickly recovers and responds eagerly. He kisses Hank harder, his tongue slips into Hank’s mouth so soft and exploratory. Hank groans and his grip tightens on Scott’s hip; the touch tugs him minutely closer, and Scott brings a knee up to the edge of Hank’s seat for leverage.

That’s when Hank breaks the kiss. He pulls back panting for air and uses his hold on Scott to keep him from getting closer.

Scott grins despite the resistance. “So, you _were_ watching me.”

Hank sighs. “Yes. Happy?”

Scott sneaks in and steals another kiss before Hank can do more to react than simply hum in delight. “Yeah,” he says with a cocky grin.

Hank rolls his eyes but can’t deny the warmth blooming in his chest. “Good,” he says softly.

Scott’s grin in return is nearly blinding.


End file.
